“Uh, Bella? Why on earth would you come back here with me when you could keep dancing with tall, dark, and fuck me, is he sexy? Jeez, he’s the hottest man I think I’ve ever seen. I almost had an orgasm watching him move his hands all over you. That look on his face. Gah,” she utters, fanning herself.

I can’t possibly find an answer that will appease her, so I simply shrug my shoulders.

She gives me a blank stare, mimicking my ridiculous motion by drawing her shoulders up toward her ears in question. “What is wrong with you? That man is beautiful.”

“Yeah, a little too beautiful.”

“Huh?”

“The way he was looking at me, Bailey, and touching me… I was starting to feel like shark bait,” I reply as I swiftly look toward the bar for a waiter. I need another drink.

“Well, hell, Bella. I’d let him bite me,” she scolds, waggling her brows in my direction.

“Bailes, something tells me if a guy like that takes a bite out of you, you won’t recover.”

The much-needed waiter arrives at our table, and I order refills. I turn my gaze back to the dance floor, not wanting to make eye contact with the shark but to interrupt this conversation. Even if only for a moment.

“How long has it been, Bella?”

The question catches me off guard. Not sure why it should, as I’ve never kept anything from Bailey. I make eye contact with her but avoid answering the question. I’m embarrassed to admit it’s been way too long.

“Bella? You said earlier you needed some hot and dirty. Well, I bet it doesn’t come any hotter or dirtier than that guy.” 

The conversation stops as the waiter returns with our drinks. I slide him enough cash to cover the cocktails, including a generous tip and quickly take a sip. Oh, that’s good.

Bailey takes a sip of her drink and leans across the table to whisper-shout over the dance music. “He looks like the kinda guy who’d go down on you without asking for anything in return. Like the unicorns you read about in romance novels that’ll eat you out because they’re hot for it.” 

“Oh, good lord, Bailey.” I feel my cheeks turn pink at the statement. As long as it’s been since I’ve had sex with a man, it’s been too long to remember when I’ve had oral. Sure, I’ve given a blow job or two, but no one has reciprocated in a very long time. I shake my head briefly before diving into my delicious cocktail once more.

“Look out now, B. It appears the shark is circling the water.” Bailey giggles over her glass.

My eyes flick over my shoulder, making direct contact with the predator in question. His stare is intense. It’s as if he’s trying to send a message through his penetrating gaze. I feel the familiar tingle on my skin from earlier, and arousal stirs between my legs that I haven’t entertained in quite some time.

Realizing I need to get my body under control, I stand to look for the restrooms. “I’ll be back, Bailes. I just need the little girls’ room,” I say before looking in the direction of the front of the club. Maybe splashing some water on my face and neck will put out the fire that wimpy margarita couldn’t douse. 

Turning the corner of the dark hallway, I discover the usual line that extends from the ladies’ room. It doesn’t appear long, so I decide to wait a few moments and pull out my phone to check for any missed calls or texts. I haven’t investigated this long before sensing an unmistakable aura behind me, causing me to pull the phone into my chest in alarm. My breath catches and my eyes flutter closed as the feeling of warm air dances over my left shoulder, neck, and ear. Again, I feel my goose bumped flesh betray me.

“Yes.” I feel the heat of the exhale tickling along my nape as a deep, masculine voice floats down my ear—the rich tone of his speech causing everything to tingle. No longer limited to the skin of my arms, my pimpled flesh alive with excitement, it now appears my nipples have joined the party.

I dig my heels in, keeping my back to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember asking you anything.” I try to deliver my retort with a flat affect, knowing full well there’s a tremble to my voice.

“You didn’t. But I believe your friend did.”

Unable to decipher this riddle, I rotate to stare up at this intoxicating man. “Friend?”

“The pretty girl you’re with tonight,” he croons. Avoiding eye contact, I attempt to focus on his strong jaw. Big mistake. That dimple is going to need a nap for all the effort it’s put forth this evening.

“Ah, you mean my sister,” I correct. Not sure why I’ve shared this, as it’s none of his concern who I’m with.

“So, yes. To your sister’s question, then.”

I shoot him a blank look, baffled by this conversation.

“Yes. I’d love to eat your […]”